


this hurt that i'm holding's gettin' heavy

by sunnylemonss



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Crying, Discussions of grief, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, No beta we die like Sunset Curve, Platonic Relationships, but it's okay because big bro alex is here to save the day, carlos is having a rough day, if any of you try to make this shippy i will steal your kneecaps and drink your blood, okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnylemonss/pseuds/sunnylemonss
Summary: When Carlos got home from school Tuesday afternoon, he wasn’t expecting to find one of Julie’s bandmates in his bedroom, studying his bookshelf.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Carlos Molina
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70





	this hurt that i'm holding's gettin' heavy

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, folks. I got this idea when I was re-watching the show for the nth time and noticed that Carlos walks though Alex. I hadn't seen anyone really explore that before, so here I am! I'm kinda running with the theory that a ghost walking through a lifer/vice versa connects them in some way, so boom. Big bro Alex and little bro Carlos. Enjoy.  
> title from "comfort crowd" by conan gray
> 
> tw: discussions of grief/mourning and loss of a mother

When Carlos got home from school Tuesday afternoon, he wasn’t expecting to find one of Julie’s bandmates in his bedroom, studying his bookshelf. It was the blond one; the drummer. Carlos let his backpack fall to the floor with a loud _thunk_ and had to suppress a smirk when the older boy whipped around, panic on his face. They stared at each other for a few awkward moments before Carlos cleared his throat. 

“So, uh, what’re you doing?” he asked, crossing his arms. The ghost shrugged and put his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. “Just, y’know. Looking at your books.” 

Carlos nodded slowly, not convinced. “Right. And you’re doing that….why?” Alex (Carlos was pretty sure this one was Alex) opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think better of it. His shoulders slumped a bit and he turned to look out the window. Carlos raised an eyebrow and crossed the room slowly, wary of scaring off his guest. He came to a stop next to Alex and looked up at him. “Are you good? Because you’re acting a little weird. I mean, if you want to look at my books, go ahead, but I figured that’d be an activity for when I’m not around to know of your existence. So what’s up?” 

Alex looked down at him with a wry smile. “You’re really observant, has anyone ever told you that?” Carlos shrugged, bashful. “You’re easy to read.” 

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Was that an insult?” 

“Only if you take it as one,” he snarked back. Alex laughed softly and tried to bump shoulders with him (well, more like shoulder to air, because Alex was a lot taller than Carlos), but his laughter cut off as he just phased through him. Carlos looked down, disappointed and not entirely sure why. 

Alex muttered an apology, but Carlos waved it off. They stood in silence for a few moments, looking out at the backyard, before Carlos went and flopped on his bed. He stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling and felt like crying. 

“Hey,” a soft voice came from his left. He turned his head to see Alex sitting sideways in his window seat, legs pulled up to his chest. The way the sunlight filtered through the window and turned his hair gold made him look like some kind of guardian angel, and now Carlos _really_ wanted to cry. “What’s going on?”

Carlos ran a hand through his hair and turned back to the ceiling. “I dunno. Just. School’s been kinda hard, lately. Everyone knows me as ‘the kid with the dead mom,’ which is really sucky because these people were my friends before that. And like, yeah, I have baseball, but I don’t really have any friends on the team and everyone always talks about me behind my back, I _know_ they do. They all huddle together and whisper and then they see me and suddenly stop. And it hurts, because what did I do wrong?” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Why don’t they like me anymore?” 

He paused and took a deep breath, letting the tears start to fall. “And don’t get me wrong, I really love Julie and I’m so happy that she has you guys and she got her music back, but it feels like I’m the only one still grieving. And I know that’s probably unfair to say, because Julie didn’t play for a year and it’s _been_ a year but it still _aches_. I keep expecting to wake up to Mom singing, or go downstairs and find her dancing in the kitchen. I come home to an empty house and go ‘oh, Mom must be in the studio’ and then she _isn’t_ because she’s _gone_. I look over at the stands during my games and she’s not there. And she’s not gonna _be_ there. And I know that Julie was closer to her and has more reason to mourn but it still _hurts_.”

Carlos sniffled and covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. Here he was, spilling his guts to a person, a _ghost_ , that he barely knew. For some reason, though, he felt...connected to the dead boy. Some part of him knew that Alex was someone he could trust, someone who wouldn’t judge him. 

He felt his mattress dip next to his hip, so he pulled his hands away from his eyes. Alex was perched on the edge of his bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands and nothing but kindness on his face. Carlos was scared to meet his eyes, afraid of the pity he would find there, but there was only understanding in the older boy’s eyes. He looked away again, staring up at his ceiling as he tried to slow the tears, ignoring Alex’s thoughtful gaze. 

“You know, there are no rules to grieving.” Alex’s voice was soft but steady. “There’s no guidebook to how long or short of a time you’re supposed to be sad. There’s no instruction pamphlet falling from the sky to tell you exactly how you’re supposed to feel. You’re allowed to be sad. You’re allowed to be angry. You have every right to be: you lost your mom, and that’s hard no matter _how_ old you are. I can’t tell you why the kids at school are being like that, but I can tell you that they’re missing out, because you’re a great kid, Carlos. You’re the best little brother anyone could ask for.” 

Alex paused and took a deep breath. “And...don’t compare your grief to Julie’s. Just because it seems like she’s moved on faster doesn’t mean that she’s not hurting. Everyone moves on at their own pace, and there’s nothing wrong with holding onto your hurt for a little bit longer. And it will—it will hurt. But it’ll pass, and the grief won’t be so heavy any more. And just because she might’ve had a little more time with your mom doesn’t mean you have any less of a right to mourn.” 

Carlos sniffed and sat up, crossing his legs in front of him and studying his dinosaur blanket as he considered the other boy’s words. “But,” he started, “wouldn’t moving on mean I’m forgetting Mom? That I’m dishonoring her memory? Every time I start to feel happy again I feel like I’m disrespecting her.” 

Alex hummed thoughtfully, and Carlos glanced up at him. He was looking out the window, and softly tapping his fingers on his knee. Carlos stared down at his hands, picking at the already torn skin around his fingers as he waited for a reply.

“You’re not disrespecting her.” Alex spoke suddenly, startling Carlos. He looked up again to find that Alex was already looking at him, a strangely intense look in his eyes. “I didn’t know your mother, but she sounds like the kind of person who loved her family with her whole heart. She wouldn’t want you to feel bad because you’re moving on, Carlos. She’d _want_ you to be happy. And she wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about it.”

At some point while Alex was talking, more tears had escaped Carlos’ eyes and made their way down his face. He wiped at his eyes furiously. “How can you be so sure?” Alex gave him a sad smile. “I’ve had some experience in losing people.”

Carlos exhaled shakily. “Does it ever get easier?” Alex shook his head, looking down at his lap. “No,” he said softly. “It doesn’t. But over time, you learn how to cope. It’s hard, and it’s painful, and some days are still really bad, and that’s okay. But your pain and your grief don’t follow you around anymore, and it’s really. . .freeing.” 

Carlos’ breath stuttered in chest, and then the tears were coming full-force. He threw himself forward, colliding with Alex and sobbing into his chest. Immediately, he felt strong arms come around him, holding him as he fell apart, like his Mom always did when he had a bad day at school or had hurt himself climbing a tree. He cried harder, burying his head further into Alex’s chest and staining his pink hoodie with his tears. Alex rubbed soothing circles into his back, rocking him gently and whispering reassurances. 

They stayed like that until Carlos calmed down enough to feel embarrassed. He pulled away and scrubbed at his eyes, feeling his face heat as he took in the giant wet spot his tears had left on Alex’s hoodie. Alex followed his gaze and chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry about it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried on Reggie like that.” Carlos smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, then let out a huge yawn. He always gets super tired after crying, and today is no different. 

He checked his clock and decided that he had time for a short nap before dinner, so he kicked off his shoes and curled up on his bed, facing Alex, who now looked a little awkward. When their eyes met, Alex smiled softly. “You’re gonna be okay.” It wasn’t phrased like a question, but Carlos nodded anyways. “Yeah,” he replied. “I will be.” Alex nodded resolutely and stood up, stretching. Carlos giggled as he heard his back pop. “I didn’t know ghosts could pop their back,” he remarked. Alex shot him an amused smile. “Yeah, me either.” 

As Alex turned to leave, Carlos shot up from his bed and raced across his room, crashing into him from behind and throwing his arms around his waist in a hug. Alex let out a small “oomph” and turned around, hugging the smaller boy tightly. “Thank you,” Carlos murmered into his torso. He felt Alex smile against the top of his head. “Any time, kiddo. I mean it. Just come find me and we’ll, I dunno, play the Google or something.” Carlos snorted. “That’s not even a real thing.” 

Alex patted him on the back. “Whatever. Go take a nap, _child_.” Carlos gasped in mock offense, not bothering to move. “Boomer,” he muttered. Alex huffed out a laugh. Carlos stayed in the hug a little longer, enjoying the comfort of Alex’s embrace. 

The moment shattered when he pulled away suddenly, gasping as the realization hit him like a truck.

“How am I touching you right now??”

**Author's Note:**

> Ta da!  
> Comments (!!) and kudos are very much appreciated if you liked it (:  
> Find me on tumblr @sunnylemonss


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